The Seahawk

Spark

Gildersleeve Middle School’s

Online Literary Magazine

June, 2011

Cover photo by Kali Steele

Vivid

The emotion behind the hue

Colors burst in out eyes

Dreaming with ambers, lilacs, and limes

Living life with

Carnation Pink and Aquamarines

Golden locks and rosy cheeks

Paint pallets and color wheels

Bathing in

The diversity of flesh

Liquid tones rupture with might

Umber orb in the sky, a blithe disposition

Always to have

Phenomenal tints, both illuminated

And dusky

The yellow of bliss the blue of woe

Yellows, oranges, purples and reds

We have it

Vivid

Void

The blacks and whites in view

Living a monochrome life of lies

Dreaming of pallid wastes of time

Going without

All these pigments, never sees

Never hears of, never speaks,

No color of love, hue-less head over heel

Aching for

No smock of dye, paints a’mesh

With lack of tint, day is night

What is the sun? for our light took abolition

Never to grasp

Long gray nights and mornings

Equally musky

A term of endearment: dear, no

Brown eyes in the doe

A sky of gray when we go to bed

We lack it

Void

Emily Moliken and Dana Needham

Color

Color

Color

Two Voice Poem

Artwork by Megan Doyle

Artwork by Emily Moliken

Love and Hate

Love and hate

are two emotions that you can‟t separate.

They‟re both strong emotions

that cause lots of commotions.

But your mind is thinkin‟

slower than you‟re blinkin‟.

Listen to me,

„cause I am the key

to your understanding of two words:

Love and hate.

So next time you see a group of people,

Don‟t say,

Haters over there

and lovers over here...

Joe Richardson

Letting Go

As hard as this may be,

I know what I must do.

This feeling is killing me

knowing that I have to let go of you.

I‟ve held on for too long.

The rope is growing thin.

Something so right went so wrong.

The light, growing dim.

There is only so much one person can

take.

I have a breaking point too.

The sensation is so hard to shake.

It hurts so much to love you.

If I don‟t leave now,

I‟ll be forever trapped in your

web. And I don‟t know how,

but I won‟t be able to get you out of my

head.

It‟s never easy

having to say goodbye,

But you have to let me go.

Allow me to spread my wings and fly.

Before I go,

Let me say one more thing.

Just so you know,

You will always be my everything.

Katherine Lugo

.

Artwork by Julia Swenson

Prisoner

I am a prisoner.

Of what?

I don‟t know…

of time, of space,

of others, of myself,

of chain, of lace.

I don‟t know

of what

I am a prisoner.

Amanda Mathis

The Judges

They stare. Stare at me.

Their disgust shows in their eyes.

They are judges who are not

meant to judge.

I see it in their eyes, I

have created something

that never should have existed.

Something that slowly eats me

up.

Once friends, turn on me.

Once enemies, turn toward

me with admiration in their

eyes. What have I done?

Emma Hale

Artwork by Morgon Smith

Artwork by Sydney Shohan

Alone

Today I took a pause, a pause that needed to be taken.

I enjoyed the silence until it started breaking

To enjoy the rain and to enjoy the day,

To enjoy the time I spent away.

To be alone is a wonderful thing,

To take a moment and hear the birds sing,

To hear the wind whistle through the trees,

And watch it dance across the seas.

To dream, cry, laugh and play,

To have time alone with myself all day,

To hear nobody‟s voice but mine,

And maybe lose myself in time.

To be away, for one day, from the people you love,

Away from the voices, the murmurs, release them like doves,

Enjoy the silence, to appreciate yourself for being you,

And thanking God for making this moment true.

Chane‟l Brown

Artwork by Casey Miller

Mom

Mom, you‟re the greatest…

Boo-boo kisser

Burp dismisser

Cookie baker

Memory maker

Trouble spyer

Hug supplier

Health inspector

Lie detector

Wish fulfiller

Pride instiller

Effort praiser

Spirit raiser

Awesome mom like no other!

Akilia Newby

My Brother

My brother is tough,

He gets mad in just one huff.

But with a friendly punch

on the shoulder and saying, “Hey!”

I see his toughness

melt away.

I‟ve never seen him cry,

Never knew why, never knew how he covered up

all his feelings

in toughness, but when I

look into his eyes, I can see

the benevolent person that everyone

else wants to be...my brother.

Alicia Cooper

Revenge by Christen Dahl

Snip, snip went my brother‟s hair. A wide grin spread from ear to ear as

I cut my 16-year-old brother‟s hair off at night. It was 2:00 a. m. on a school

night when I got my revenge. My eyes glinted mischievously in the dark-

ness of his room, a place forbidden to me unless I wanted to get punched

in the gut.

Just today, my brother Cole put worms from his science project in my

thermos. So you can imagine my surprise when I opened it up, expecting

spaghetti noodles. The air had erupted in screams as I accidentally spilled

them in disgust. After they‟d all been picked up by my teacher, I got de-

tention. It wasn‟t my fault of course, but my teacher wouldn‟t listen. So this

is how I‟m paying my brother back, favor for favor.

Finally I cut the last lock of hair and stood back to admire my work. His

hair was hideous and jagged, cut way back here and there, and its regular

length in a couple spots. His once perfect Justin Bieber hair was now termi-

nated. Satisfied, I tiptoed as quietly as I could across his room and closed

the door with a click.

Artwork by Rhiannon Edwards

Artwork by Rhiannon Edwards

Bird and Plane

You both have wings

To soar above clouds

Free like the wind

Soaring through the air.

Patricia Wolf

Dreams

Some dreams are like a broken leg that

will get you nowhere.

And some dreams are like a bird with two

wings that will fly you everywhere.

But whatever my dream is, I‟ll hold on to it,

I‟ll store it up somewhere safe in my heart.

Maybe someday I‟ll let it shine.

But as for now

I‟ll just hold on to it

Till day comes.

Mouna Traore

Thunderheart

Who art thou, who art thou who holds the key to my heart?

If thou are out there, then I name thee Thunderheart.

For thunder is the clan of the brave,

The clan of heroes who save.

Know now that thy shall never be unaided in thy quest,

Thy finest friends will aid thou,

Icefire, Flameheart, Nightcloud and Rainstorm are thy companions.

No matter how thou feels of me,

Thou shall always hold the key to my heart and soul…

Nicole Hedgepeth

Artwork by Zoe McFadden

Artwork by Rhiannon Edwards

The Truth

What is the truth?

Is it a reflection

of our thoughts?

Is it stories

passed down from

generation to generation?

Or is it words stated

in our textbooks?

It can be told by so many,

but accepted by so few.

Do you know the truth?

Can you accept it?

Hannah Krauss

Sixteenth Street Baptist Church

Tears streaming down your face,

Smoke curls through the air.

Where is my baby?

Hatred has burned this haven.

Death walks through the smoke,

Eyes closed forever.

Emma Hale

Hopeless

I can‟t stop

love- ing

you, I don‟t know why but I

still do and probably always will.

we‟ll

never be the same,

be best friends again.

us, we used to be an us but

never again. I‟ve learned my lesson I won‟t

be so naïve,

the past is the past and it won‟t be the

same even though I want things to change,

as much as I need someone to be there,

we can‟t go back to how things were, it was

once upon a time, my dreams came true, but

were crushed, ended,

never to be revived, never

to see the day of light again, but to

be cast away to the deepest depths of my soul, now

as meaningless as dirt on your shoes. We were

close what happened? Why did things have to change?

or is it better this way? Now I‟m

as distant as I can be, not as

sincere as I once was but now things have a purpose

as for the future...only time will tell.

before is now the past

my attitude is changing, but I still make

mistakes…

Allie Cruz

Hopeless

I can‟t stop

love- ing

you, I don‟t know why but I

still do and probably always will.

we‟ll

never be the same,

be best friends again.

us, we used to be an us but

never again. I‟ve learned my lesson I won‟t

be so naïve,

the past is the past and it won‟t be the

same even though I want things to change,

as much as I need someone to be there,

we can‟t go back to how things were, it was

once upon a time, my dreams came true, but

were crushed, ended,

never to be revived, never

to see the day of light again, but to

be cast away to the deepest depths of my soul, now

as meaningless as dirt on your shoes. We were

close what happened? Why did things have to change?

or is it better this way? Now I‟m

as distant as I can be, not as

sincere as I once was but now things have a purpose

as for the future...only time will tell.

before is now the past

my attitude is changing, but I still make

mistakes…

Allie Cruz

Artwork by Rhiannon Edwards

Dead Moon by Emma Hale

The moon. Full of mysteries, its sad face looked down on the girl lying on the leaves. It seemed-

“You’re distracting me," I said while looking down on my paper.

“I know,” he said, twirling a strand of my hair on his finger.

“You know I have to get this in today or-”

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing. It was the newest song from my best friend‟s band, which only meant

one thing. Alicia was calling,

“What? Why are calling at this—”

“Amy, get your butt down here now!” Her voice was filled with urgency. I was used to her always being in a

rush, but this sounded different. Like she was being chased.

I rolled out of bed and slipped my slippers on.

“Where exactly are you? You know it‟s my day off today.” There was silence on the other end. My friend‟s

voice was gone. It was my fifteenth birthday, and I wasn‟t up for Alicia‟s traumatic findings. The sun was hidden

behind dark clouds, making our backyard seem spookier than it was.

“Oh great,” I muttered. Just what I wanted. Alicia and I were going to the beach today, but now it was a

cloudy mess, and she didn‟t even mention it on the phone.

I plodded down the stairs, expecting to see mom and dad waiting for me. No one was there. Mom‟s keys were

still there, and so were mom and dad‟s coats and shoes. But the rest of the kitchen looked like hell had run through.

Chairs were broken in half, dishes were thrown on the floor, and the door was ripped off its hinges, letting in a cold

draft. And that wasn‟t all. Blood was in the sink, on the floor, and even on the curtains.

I raced upstairs to see if my parents were still in bed. They weren‟t.

I threw my coat on and ran out of the door, following a trail of blood.

“Why today?” I thought. “Why?”

I found my parents at the edge of the forest. Both of them were stark naked and covered in blood. Coins were

scattered around them. A couple feet from their bodies was Alicia‟s cell phone and her favorite jacket. Did she do

this? She couldn't have. She was almost screaming into the phone earlier like she was the one being murdered.

I walked cautiously into the woods looking for evidence that would prove my fears wrong. But sure enough,

there was a white hand sticking out of the bush. A white hand with Alicia‟s best friend bracelet on the wrist.

She never took it off. She had never taken it off.

I lay in the hammock, under our big old oak tree, looking at the spot where my parents had been

murdered. The service had been done a while ago. People had cried fake tears and apologized for their deaths, as

if it were their fault. They were shadows in the corners of my eyes.

Alicia‟s parents had been stuck into silence when they heard about her death. No traces of an attack were on

her. People whispered about her killing herself, but I knew someone had killed her. Why? Even I didn‟t know that

one.

My parents, well, they were way more damaged than Alicia was. Both had, as the doctor said, their lungs

ripped to shreds, both legs broken, and three holes pounded in their skulls. Why would anyone do that?

The breeze whipped my hair and rustled my stiff black dress. How could the world still be turning? I knew mine

wasn‟t. It had surely spun out of control.

To be continued...

What is War?

Every night their screams come,

Thousands of them, intertwined with my own.

How shall I rid myself of these voices?

These voices of the people whom I‟ve killed.

What shall I do?

I know what I must do.

I must remember why they died.

They died fighting for...me,

the face of a rebellious time!

No, not at all.

They died for peace,

but what is peace?

Peace, it comes and goes.

For now their children‟s children

will be protected by peace.

They shall not have to play

the horrifying games

we‟ve all played.

These wars must never return.

Everyone forbids it.

But someday they will.

One last note before I let their screams

engulf me... forever.

War is not a game

children should play,

for it is a cold, heartless,

dangerous battle of death.

However there will always be one rule:

Kill or be killed.

Kaylee Boyd

To Shed a Tear

A man lost his family in an accident.

He lost his hope and his faith.

The tears he shed the night of the accident were

told to be his last.

Young man he was, early 30s.

Left his job, his house, got an apartment

away from the memories, for they caused him

too much pain.

Went for a walk one day and saw a woman and

a little girl.

They were in a car and were heading for a crossroad.

Suddenly a four wheeler lost control of his vehicle.

It spun out of control.

The four wheeler hit the van.

Just before the collision the little girl looked

right at him.

The man ran to the van and pulled the two from

the wreck.

He stood above them and something struck him:

A long forgotten feeling.

On that day he did something no man who lost

hope and faith would ever be expected to do.

He shed a tear.

He dropped to his knees and prayed.

Then like a miracle, the woman and her daughter

drew a breath.

They say the young man saved their lives that

day, but it was his life that they saved.

Paige Brooks

Artwork by Dakota Washington

Is

Blood is…

as red as your flames of orange,

your bringer and giver of life,

a taker of life,

what we shed in war.

Darkness is…

what we were born from,

what our aura looks like,

the evil that surrounds us,

the black of night.

Hate is…

the anger of the hell we bring,

the flames of rage that dwell within our hearts,

the destruction of love.

Love is…

the feeling of the heavens,

the destroyer of hate,

the light in the darkness,

what brings life.

Chance Parker

Paint the World

When life is dull,

you can‟t accept it

just black and white.

You feel lost.

But you find hope,

you put some color in.

You paint the world,

paint the love,

paint the smiles,

paint the hope.

A bright, colorful world,

The tranquility and the time to take

to make the paints true.

When there is no help,

Just paint the world.

Kayleigh Sears

Artwork by Rayne Troxell

Doll

Sits on my desk

in a little white

dress with hair in a tiny bow.

I brush her curly

hair with lots of

care and fix her dress too.

She is something special

to me. I hope you feel

the same, but remember

to give her a name.

She stands there

all day with a smile

on her face the whole day through.

Every week the little doll

moves. I place her all over the

room for everyone to see

Means a lot to me. I

love her with all my

heart. She is special to me, can‟t you see?

I got her for

a present. She

is all I wanted

in a doll. She is

beautiful in every way.

She reminds me of my

grandmother.

I want you to

see my doll with

her little white dress

with the bow in her

curly hair as I see her.

Erin Maloon

Artwork by Haley Brandt

Sister

Sister, my best friend

the one I am closest to

the one who comforts me,

and warms me.

The one I can cry to,

the one who feels my pain.

Oh, sister,

the one who makes my heart sing,

without you, I don‟t sleep.

The one I miss when

she‟s gone in the night,

the one I miss when

she‟s not in sight.

The one I love

and cherish every fight.

Oh sister, our happy

days will never end.

Even when we are with God,

Until the end of time,

we will meet again.

Ra‟nae Jones

Friday

Friday, it‟s Friday!

A wonderful day

going to be filled with laughter, joy, and play.

It‟s the day we have so our weekend can be born!

It‟s three o‟clock. Time to unleash the middle school swarm.

As they race down the block, they hear the teachers cry,

“Good bye , my students and don‟t forget where the classrooms lie!”

Tomorrow we will sleep til noon,

Because school has gone by so soon.

Some people are rejoicing because they made it by a hair.

Others, I am sad to admit, will not be seen anywhere.

Taelor Janney

Artwork by Christen Dahl

List of Contributors

Kaylee Boyd

Haley Brandt

Paige Brooks

Chane‟l Brown

Alicia Cooper

Allie Cruz

Christen Dahl

Megan Doyle

Rhiannon Edwards

Emma Hale

Nicole Hedgepeth

Ra‟Nae Jones

Taelor Janney

Hannah Krauss

Katherine Lugo

Erin Maloon

Amanda Mathis

Zoe McFaddin

Casey Miller

Emily Moliken

Dana Needham

Akiliah Newby

Chance Parker

Joe Richardson

Kayleigh Sears

Sydney Shohan

Morgon Smith

Kalie Steele

Julia Swenson

Mouna Traore

Rayne Troxell

Patricia Wolf

Teacher Sponsors

Leslie Brooks

Becky Koptish

Angela Rowe

Abralene White

Photograph by Kali Steele